


two ghosts and a war

by besully (Briar_Elwood)



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Corporal Punishment, M/M, Matelotage, Multi, alternate season 4, where everything ends happily
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-01-07 07:19:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12228204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briar_Elwood/pseuds/besully
Summary: Canon divergent from 4.02. Max's men were able to kill Hands and take Silver to the plantation where he meets Thomas Hamilton. Flint and the other pirates rescue Silver (and Thomas). Thomas learns of the war effort and wants to help so after the rescue, they continue the war.Meanwhile the dynamics between Silver, Flint, and Thomas grow increasingly complicated, and Thomas is encouraging developments with everything he has.Eventual Silver/Flint/Hamilton.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short little one shot that ended quickly with a happy Silver/Flint/Hamilton. Then it got out of hand.
> 
> Tags will be added as needed. Rating will probably change to Explicit eventually.

The new recruit is cute with piercing blue eyes Thomas can see from across the room, but he sticks out like a sore thumb. While many of the men here have grown their hair and beards out, none of them wear it comfortably, still too used to stuffy costumes and powdered wigs no matter how long they’ve been here. This man looks like he’s never worn a fine fabric in his life, and his hair and beard, while wild and scraggly, look as natural to him as the nose sitting between his eyes. Thomas finishes grabbing his lunch and moves to where the man sits alone, stabbing at his food like it’s personally offended him.

“Mind if I sit?” Thomas asks. The man glances up, and, truly, those eyes are ridiculous. The stranger looks unimpressed and gestures at the seat across from him. Thomas sits down and starts in on his food. As he eats he notices the crutch propped up against the table and has to stifle his curiosity. That would not be the best way to start of conversation.

“You don’t really belong here, do you?”

The stranger’s eyes flash up, dangerous, and all right, maybe that wasn’t the best place to start either.

“I just mean most of us were shipped here by our rich families who couldn’t stomach the thought of us in proper society. You don’t seem like you come from aristocracy.”

The man scoffs, stabbing at his food again. Actually, now that Thomas is paying attention, it doesn’t look like he’s actually eaten any of it.

“So how did you end up here?”

“Piracy,” the man says casually. “Struck a deal with a woman of influence so they wouldn’t hang me.”

Thomas glances at the crutch. “And she actually trusted you to go quietly?”

“I didn’t. Killed two of her men, but she killed my man. I wasn’t able to resist after that.” he knocks his elbow gently on the crutch.

“And she still trusted you not to make any trouble here?”

The man shrugs. “We used to be friends.” he looks up, seeming to take Thomas in for the first time. “What about you? What’d you do?”

Thomas smiles tightly. “I was married and fell in love with someone else. A man.”

It was always interesting to watch reactions to his story. A few of the other men here no longer spoke to Thomas, a few more didn’t seem to care, while a few were actually sympathetic. This man, however, was hard to read. He didn’t seem disgusted so at least there was that. The man seemed instead to be trying to read Thomas. After a moment, he dropped his fork and held out his hand.

“John Silver.”

Thomas took his hand slowly, bemused. “Thomas Hamilton.”

If Thomas hadn’t been looking for it, he would’ve easily missed the way Silver tensed, his eyes going wide before shuttering immediately into something neutral. Then Silver smiles, a wholly charming and disarming smile, and shakes Thomas’s hand firmly.

“Good to meet you.”

For some reason, Thomas actually believes him.

* * *

Silver is unable to do most of the hard labor in the fields, Thomas finds, and the overseers decide he needs a caretaker. Silver’s none too pleased by the idea, but his protests die down when Thomas volunteers. Which isn’t to say he doesn’t still protest because he does--a lot--but it’s not quite as adamant. Thomas isn’t quite sure what that says about their budding friendship.

They’re assigned to the kitchens after Silver proves he’s a decent cook. He seems to find something amusing in that, but he doesn’t share with Thomas. They work together well, and soon enough, Silver begins telling Thomas stories about his time leading a life of piracy. How many of Silver’s stories Thomas believed was up for question--they all seemed wildly outlandish. But apparently the man had sailed with Captain Flint, which throws Thomas at first. Captain Flint was the man who’d killed his father, he knew, and from that he only had a violent and dangerous vision of him. But the vision Silver paints was a man of strength and passion. It’s clear Silver admired the man, called him friend, and eventually Thomas realizes Silver must’ve loved the captain.

It’s soon after this realization that they start fucking.

Thomas truly hates the way his heart works. He can feel himself falling in love with the pirate, the same slow spiral he’d felt all those years ago for James. It almost feels like a betrayal, but James is dead now, along with Miranda, and staying celibate isn’t going to change that. But it’s not the guilt that Thomas hates--it’s how obvious it is the feelings are one-sided. Silver still pines for his old life, still pines for Captain Flint. Unlike James, Captain Flint is still out there somewhere, and both Thomas and Silver are painfully aware of it. Still, Silver seems to enjoy Thomas’s company well enough, and the sex is fantastic, so Thomas doesn’t complain.

It doesn’t take long for it to be obvious that Silver is a free spirit--no surprise, considering his profession--and that living in captivity here at the plantation is killing him slowly. Not that Thomas blames him. He hates this place just as much as the next person, but never before has there really anything anyone could do about it. Now? Thomas has heard whispers among the other men about “Long John Silver”, the Pirate King, who was more fearsome than both Flint and Teach combined. According to the stories Long John Silver is better in a fight on one leg than most men are on two. Oddly enough, Thomas actually believes the hyperbole to an extent. Silver is rather nimble with his crutch, to say the least.

One late night they lie in bed together half naked, and Thomas can practically feel the frustration emanating off of Silver. He’d gotten into a tiff with one of the overseers earlier than day over the treatment of a teenage girl who worked on the plantation. The girl had been brought into the kitchens to work. An overseer hovered over her shoulder, indicating she was new to the plantation. But it was made plain fairly quickly that the girl had no idea what she was doing in the kitchen. After chopping the pad of her finger off with some potatoes, Silver went over to help, first by bandaging her finger. The overseer seemed not to mind that much, but when Silver started taking over cutting the potatoes, he’d minded. He’d told Silver to go back to his own work, but Silver ignored him, indicating the girl watch him work so she could learn. That is, until his crutch had been kicked out of his grip and Silver had gone tumbling to the floor.

Thomas had hurried to help, but he could see the restraint it had taken Silver not to fight back. The overseer had seen it as well and started yelling at Silver about insubordination. Thomas had helped Silver back up, grip gentle but firm as he silently tried to convince Silver to just accept the coming punishment and move on. He did, the punishment a simple denial of the midday meal, but Thomas could tell how hard it had been. The frustration had hovered over him all day and continues to do so.

“We should leave this place,” Thomas says lightly. He feels Silver tense beside him.

“What?”

“We should leave,” Thomas repeats. “Escape. Find a small town we can hide in, change our names.”

“And settle down together?”

“We can figure out the details later,” Thomas says quickly, ignoring the sideways look Silver is giving him. Settling down together would be ideal, of course, but Thomas doubts that was something Silver wants. “My point is we should get out of here. Live our lives free of this place.”

“You really want to leave?”

Thomas frowns. “Don’t you?”

“Well, yes, but you… you’ve been here for years. I thought…” Silver hesitates. “I thought you were comfortable here.”

“In slavery?”

“That’s not what I meant--”

“The only reason I didn’t leave once I heard Peter Ashe was dead was because I had no idea how to go about it.”

“And you think I do?”

Thomas fixes Silver with a look. “Yes. I do.”

Silver’s mouth twists. “And we’d… what? Change our names, find a small town to settle down in? Leave everyone else here to rot?”

“We’re not organizing a revolt, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Really?” Silver says with a smirk, rolling over to meet Thomas’s gaze. “I thought you’d jump at the chance for justice.”

“Ten years ago, of course,” Thomas agrees. “I was naive then.”

Silver snorts softly and nuzzles Thomas’s neck. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

Thomas frowns at him. “Why not?”

“It’d be dangerous, for one thing. We’d have to make it past the overseers and the guards, as well as every other soul on this plantation so they don’t raise the alarm. And that’s just what we’d need to do before making it to the gates.”

Thomas tries not to sigh, he really does. Silver grins and gives him a sharp poke in the side.

“We’re fine here. They treat us well enough. It’s safer than certain death.”

Says the man who’d had his crutch knocked out from underneath him and a meal revoked today.

“Death isn’t certain,” Thomas argues but he’s already given up.

“I’m not putting you in danger,” Silver says, a sudden hard edge in his tone. Thomas frowns at the conviction in Silver’s voice. Why would he care so much about Thomas’s well being? Thomas has fallen in love with the pirate, yes, but he knows for a fact those same feeling aren’t reciprocated. So why did he care so much?

The question continues to bother Thomas the next day and the day after that. Was it out of some form of loyalty? Did Silver feel like he owed Thomas for being his friend? Whatever the logic behind it, it was misplaced and it made Thomas uncomfortable. He didn’t need a protector, much less one who was protecting him for unfounded reasons.

But it’s later that second day that Thomas does something stupid. The girl from the other day is back in the kitchens, without an escort this time, and Thomas goes over to help. After a few minutes, though, it turns out her escort was just late and it’s the same overseer as before. The man starts yelling at Thomas, and Thomas finds he can’t just leave it alone. The girl is clearly scared and out of her element, and don’t they want her to do a good job? If that’s the case, she needs help. Thomas is supposed to be helping Silver, but Silver is more than competent, so Thomas can’t see the harm in helping this girl instead. The argument gets out of hand and soon enough Thomas finds himself outside with the overseer who’s now got a whip in his hands.

It isn’t the first time they’ve whipped him. He can’t help but argue sometimes, and it will always get him into trouble. Not that the fact he’s been through this before makes it any easier. Thomas grits his teeth and tries to pretend he’s somewhere else. Surprisingly he finds himself thinking of a future somewhere in a cozy, quiet home with Silver. Before now he’s always found himself in the past with James, reading a book or debating about Nassau. It surprises him enough that he finds himself in reality just as the whip connects with the flesh of his back, and he jerks.

“Stop!”

Thomas winces because he knows that voice and, goddammit, he told Silver to stay out of this. He cranes his neck to look behind him, the regular rhythm of the whip gone. Silver’s up in the overseer’s face, hand holding the wrist with the whip. The overseer looks shocked for a brief moment before it’s overtaken with anger. He wrenches his arm out of Silver’s grip and before Silver has time to recover his balance, the overseer’s fist connects with a crack on Silver’s nose.

“You’re next,” the overseer growls.

The next crack of the whip carries more punch with the knowledge it’ll soon be used on Silver.

* * *

That night they spend their evening cleaning the other up with a soft rag and warm water. Thomas sets Silver’s nose, mourning the loss of such perfection.  He fixes Silver with a glare, but Silver isn’t looking. Instead his focus is on some spot on the floor between them, and his voice is quiet when he speaks.

“We should leave. Escape. Find somewhere quiet and settle down.”

Thomas blinks at him. “What?”

Silver looks up and meets his shocked stare. “You heard me.”

“I thought you said it was too dangerous.”

“It’s worth the risk,” Silver says tersely. Thomas frowns at him, but Silver’s looking away again, this time his focus on Thomas’s shoulder. Thomas is fairly sure one of the cuts across his back curls over the shoulder a bit, just enough to be seen. Thomas grinds his teeth.

“Is this because I got hurt?” he tries not to seethe. “This isn’t the first time this has happened, Silver, and I’ve--”

“John,” Silver interrupts. “My name is John.”

Thomas stares at him. What is _happening_?

Before he can say anything in response there’s a bang in the distance, somewhere outside. Both Silver and Thomas turn to look in its direction, and Thomas knows what they’re both thinking. That sounded like a gunshot.

A few bangs pierce the air, followed by yelling of men. All the while it gets closer to the house where all the men here lodge. Thomas turns back to look at Silver with wide eyes, but Silver has a hard look in his expression.

“Stay here,” he says, grabbing his crutch and getting up. “I’ll be back.” Silver grabs a firepoker and heads for the door.

“John,” Thomas says haltingly, moving to stand up.

“Stay here,” Silver repeats. “Please.”

There’s something in his voice that makes Thomas settle back down. Whatever Silver’s reasonings, he genuinely is concerned for Thomas’s welfare. And Thomas can’t just ignore that.

Silver disappears out the door with the firepoker in his grip, and Thomas jumps at the sound of another gunshot, much closer this time. He’s never been in a fight--nothing like this anyway. Not with guns and swords and the like. He feels no need to hide in this room like a coward, but he is keenly aware he has no idea what he’s getting in to. He creeps closer to the door and listens for signs of trouble. Silver will be upset he didn’t stay, but he’ll forgive him. Eventually.

“Captain?”

Thomas stops. That’s Silver’s voice. And “captain” meant… Captain Flint? Had Flint come to save Silver? Something in Thomas’s chest grows heavy, and he realizes he’s trying to remember how to breathe.

“What are you doing here?”

“We heard rumors you were still alive,” another voice--Flint?--says. “It took some convincing but eventually Max told us where you were.”

There’s something familiar about Flint’s voice. Something far away and long ago. Thomas frowns, leaning closer to the open door to hear better.

“We? Tell me Madi isn’t here.”

Madi. Silver had spoken about Madi a fair amount too. She sounded like someone Thomas would love to meet.

“She’s not. That took some convincing as well.” There’s a note of amusement in Flint’s tone, and, god, that voice sounds familiar. But how would Thomas have ever met Flint before? It doesn’t make sense.

Slowly, Thomas walks out the door and into the hallway. At the end of the hall is Silver, a look of disbelief on his face. Flint is past the turn of the corner, out of sight, but Thomas is sure he can feel the pirate captain’s presence like a dark shadow looming over him. But even the shadow feels familiar.

Silver catches sight of Thomas and turns with a sigh. “I told you to wait for me.”

Thomas steps closer, eyes fixed on the spot where Captain Flint is hidden behind the wall. He sees movement, a figure stepping closer, and then there he is: Captain Flint, the most feared pirate other than Long John Silver himself. The man who killed Thomas’s father and destroyed all of Charlestown.

It takes a moment for what he’s seeing to sink in. For a moment, he’s certain he’s looking at a ghost. But then Thomas sees the look on Silver’s face, and there’s no doubt left in his mind.

“James?”

James looks just as shaken as Thomas feels. His hair is short. He looks… old. Worn. Scarred. Thomas supposes that makes sense if James has been living as a pirate for the past decade. Which… that is not a reality he’s ready to make sense of just yet. Right now he’s focused on the fact that James is alive, here, standing in front of him just a few feet away.

In a rush of movement, both James and Thomas hurry to each other, sweeping the other up in their arms. Thomas holds James close, clinging to his coat, reveling in the warmth of James, the proof of life right here in his hold. James is _alive_ . Alive. Here in his arms, his breath on his neck. James is alive and well and _here_ , and Thomas is truly having a hard time accepting it.

After what seems like a lifetime, they part, and Thomas looks over James’s shoulder to where Silver waits, scuffing the floor with his crutch.

“You knew,” Thomas says, moving around James and over to Silver. “All this time you knew my James and your Captain Flint were the same man, and you never said anything.”

“I never thought we’d see him again,” Silver says quickly. “I didn’t want to give you false hope.”

“Thomas--” James says slowly, but Thomas shakes his head.

“I’m not mad,” he says, and really, he’s not. Silver frowns at him, and Thomas wants to kiss that frown away, but he needs to assess James’s feeling about Silver before going that route anymore.

There’s a crash somewhere outside and all three of them turn towards it.

“You said Madi’s not here,” Silver says, “but you didn’t come alone, did you?”

“You’re the Pirate King,” James says with a shrug. “Everyone came to rescue you. There were also a few parties who wanted to burn this place to the ground.”

“Bonney?”

“Billy also thinks we can recruit the men.”

Thomas finds he’s a little lost, but he doesn’t really mind. James is alive. Thomas and Silver are getting out of here, and the whole plantation is being freed. What happens next, Thomas has no idea, but he hopes it includes both James and Silver, and maybe some retribution towards the system that put him here. A new chapter is starting, and so far it’s starting off beautifully.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Thomas reunite. James talks of retirement. Thomas can't find Silver.

The next half hour or so is a blur. Thomas is ushered off the plantation and to a beautiful ship, behind James and Silver fighting their way out. The plantation is in chaos, pirates and overseers fighting, prisoners fleeing. Both James and Silver hurriedly introduce him to a few pirates on their way to the ship--the names Jack Rackham and Anne Bonney stand out because he recognizes them. Jack Rackham and Anne Bonney were rescuing him. And Captain Flint. Who’s James.

Yeah, his head is starting to hurt.

Once they board the ship Thomas is taken to the captain’s cabin with the explicit orders to stay there while James and Silver go back out into the fray. Thomas stares at his surroundings, trying to bring his breathing back down to something resembling normal. By the time he’s ready to actually take a look around the cabin, there’s a knock on the door and James walks in. Thomas rushes to him, holding him close again. James seems to melt into the embrace, sagging so Thomas is carrying some of his weight.

“You’re alive,” James whispers hoarsely.

“It was Peter who told you I was dead, wasn’t it?” Thomas says, pulling back slightly so he can look in James’s eyes. James nods. “What did he say happened?”

“That you killed yourself in Bethlem.”

Thomas lets out a shaky breath. “Well, he wasn’t far off.”

“What does that mean?” James asks, a sudden ferocity in his voice. Thomas takes a step back, caught off guard by what could only be a glimpse of Flint. He shakes his head quickly, dismissing the question. He wasn’t about to go into the story of how he’d tried to commit suicide at Bethlem. Not now.

“He told me you and Miranda were killed by pirates as you were fleeing London.”

James snorts, but there’s no real humor behind it. In fact, he’s very specifically not looking Thomas in the eye right now, and something inside Thomas sinks to his toes.

“Miranda’s gone, isn’t she?”

“Peter killed her. She figured out he was the one who betrayed us, and then she was just… gone.”

Thomas hugs James again, fingers clutching to the leather coat. “It’s not your fault.”

James makes a huffing noise like he doesn’t quite believe Thomas, but Thomas ignores it for now. He pulls back and looks into James’s eyes steadily.

“Captain Flint, huh?”

“Thomas…”

“Thank you.”

James looks befuddled. “What?”

“Thank you,” Thomas repeats. “For getting rid of my father.”

James grimaces, but Thomas places a hand on James’s cheek, tenderly forcing him to look at him.

“I mean it. I hope you made him hurt.”

James shakes his head and steps back. “There’s much to be done. We need to leave this place before surrounding plantations arrive.”

“Yes. Okay,” Thomas says with a nod. James smoothes out his clothes and beard purposefully, ready to go back out.

“James,” Thomas says quickly before he can open the door. James stops and looks back at him.

“I love you.”

The careful mask of a professional pirate captain slips away, and next thing Thomas knows he’s got an armful of James, beard scratching against beard as James kisses him like he’s starving. Thomas raises a hand to the back of James’s head, mourning the loss of hair to grab onto, and kisses him right back. It feels like coming home.

* * *

There are two ships full of pirates and newly freed slaves, Thomas learns. One ship,  _ The Walrus _ , is captained by James himself, the other ship captained by Jack Rackham. They leave port as soon as possible, sailing for open water. Thomas is pretty sure they’re heading to “the Maroon Camp”, whatever that meant. Obviously it was a camp of maroons and escaped slaves, there were plenty of them in the Caribbean, but the way it was said, with clear capital letters, made this one seems significant for some reason.

The day after they leave the plantation, Thomas runs into the young girl from the kitchens during the midday meal. His face breaks into a wide grin, and he greets her excitedly, pleased to see she’d made it out safe. The girl introduces herself as Victoria and thanks Thomas for his help yesterday. Yesterday. It feels so much longer than that. She asks about Silver and that’s when Thomas realizes he hasn’t seen Silver since he’d been dropped off at the captain’s cabin. Which was odd, right? Isn’t Silver James’s quartermaster? Maybe he’d been hurt during the fight. Thomas finds the doctor--Howell--and asks him about it, but Howell hasn’t seen Silver the whole day either.

More than a little troubled, Thomas heads back to the captain’s cabin to ask James, but as he approaches he can hear voices from inside, raised in anger. Frowning, Thomas stops at the door to listen.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” That was Silver, an edge of desperation in his voice. “You can’t just leave all this, not now! You started this war, you can’t just abandon it while it’s still struggling to take breath!”

“You asked me where this war started, and I told you,” James says, sounding overly patient. “Now Thomas is alive and well. There’s no reason for me to keep fighting.”

“Do you realize how selfish you sound?”

“I’m retiring, Silver. Thomas and I will leave this ship at the next port and we’ll make ourselves a home. You needn’t worry about being my end any longer.”

“And you just expect me to carry on fighting for you?”

“Someone needs to captain  _ The Walrus _ . You make the most sense.”

“I don’t want to be a captain!”

“The men already trust and respect you. You’ll run a tight ship, perfectly run and unstoppable.”

“You have too much faith in me.”

“I really don’t.”

“You--you can’t just retire!” Silver barks, and Thomas hears something break. “You can’t just leave!”

“There’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

“You know what? Fuck you. All right? Fuck. You.”

Thomas hurries away from the door as the thudding of Silver’s crutch gets closer and hides behind the stairs. Silver throws the door open and glares around the ship for a moment before continuing, the regular  _ thump _ of his crutch following him. Thomas watches him for a moment, wanting to go after him and comfort him, but he knows the best way to make Silver feel better is by talking to James first. Retirement. By god.

The door is still wide open when Thomas returns to it, and he can see James kneeling on the floor, picking up the remnants of whatever Silver broke. Thomas watches him for a moment, leaning against the doorframe.

“So when were you going to tell me about these plans to retire?”

James looks up with a jolt and then sighs. He gathers the mess up and stands, letting the pieces fall on his desk, and walks over to Thomas.

“You heard that.”

“It was hard not to.”

“He’ll be fine. I’ve prepared him for this.”

“Did you ever stop to think what I might have to say about your retirement?”

James blinks. “You saying you disagree?”

Thomas just raises an eyebrow.

“What, you--you want to make a home for me to come back to whenever I’m in port? You waiting for me to return until the day I don’t?”

“No,” Thomas says. “I want to stay on this ship.”

The look on James’s face is positively adorable. Thomas tries to hide his smile, but judging by the way James’s eyes harden, it isn’t effective.

“Why the hell would you want to stay on this ship?”

“James, I’ve spent the past ten years in slavery or committed to a mental asylum,” Thomas says patiently. “And before that I spent my years talking about ways to reform the world. From what I understand about this war of yours, you’ve actually managed to start the world on a new path. I’d like to help in any way I can.”

“What have you heard about this war?” James asks curiously.

“I heard that you’re trying to reform Nassau into a independent entity,” Thomas says. “That you’ve allied yourself with countless pirates and freed slaves to see the governor in Nassau thrown out and England beaten back to never return. I heard you had an astounding victory at the start of this, and while the last battle ended with Silver’s supposed death, you still have a living, breathing war in your hands, and that that isn’t easily abandoned.”

James still looks confused. “You want to fight?”

“I want you to not give up everything you’ve been working for just because of me. And I have no interest in acting the part of your wife left at home while you do it, so I might as well stay here.”

“You can’t fight, Thomas.”

Thomas shrugs. “So I’ll find another way to be useful on this ship.”

“The men will wonder.”

“Let them wonder,” Thomas says. “Better yet, let them know. There’s a custom called matelotage among pirates, isn’t there?”

James blinks at him. “Yeah…”

“That’d give me plenty of reason to stay on this ship, wouldn’t it?”

James stares at Thomas for a moment longer before ushering him fully inside the cabin and closing the door behind him. He looks at Thomas with such earnesty it makes Thomas’s heart ache. What had James been through these past ten years?

“You do realize what you’re suggesting, don’t you?” he asks. Thomas frowns.

“I think I understand the concept of matelotage, yes.”

“You’re asking me, for all intents and purposes, to marry you,” James says, like he doesn’t quite believe Thomas. Thomas smiles and nods.

“Yes, I know. I apologize for not having a ring.”

In a rush of movement, James grabs Thomas by the face and presses his lips hard against Thomas’s. Thomas returns the kiss with a grin, holding James’s wrists. When James pulls back, resting his forehead against Thomas’s, Thomas asks quietly, “So is that a yes?”

James huffs, the corners of his mouth turning up of their own accord. “Yes. Christ, yes. A thousand times, yes.”

* * *

After some quality time spent in the captain’s cabin with James, Thomas makes it his mission to find Silver. Finally, after a few detours spent getting to know the crew members of the ship, Thomas finds the quartermaster in the kitchens, angrily skinning fish.

“Hello,” Thomas greets, entering the space cautiously. Silver looks up with a jolt, recognizes Thomas, and scowls.

“What do you want?”

“I wanted to let you know that James won’t be retiring anytime soon.”

Silver scoffs. “Yeah? And how exactly do you figure that?”

“I convinced him to stay.”

Silver looks up at him with a frown. “You heard us arguing earlier, didn’t you?”

Thomas shrugs and sits down next to Silver, picking up a knife to help with the fish. “I’ve heard a little about this war, and I understand how important it is.”

Silver laughs, but it’s without humor. “Do you really?”

Thomas frowns. “Maybe I only understand to an extent, but the point is I understand it’s important. I agree with it.”

The regular motion of Silver’s hand with the knife halts, and he looks up at Thomas suspiciously. “You agree with it?”

“England is a tyrant,” Thomas says. “You think I don’t understand that, after all I’ve been through?”

“You’re a pacifist,” Silver argues. “You wanted to solve the problem in Nassau by handing everyone pardons.”

Thomas sighs. “As I’ve said before, I was naive back then. I still loved my country, I still believed in a god.”

“And now?”

“And now my country tells me that I’m less than an animal for loving who I love, and I spent years in an asylum, followed by years in slavery. All for falling in love. I’m hard pressed to believe in a higher power allowing that to happen.”

“So you’re willing to fight a war?” Silver asks, looking back down at the knife in his hand.

“I’m willing to stand next to James and support him in his endeavors. If that means fighting a war, so be it.”

“So you and…  _ James _ ,” he says the name like it’s foreign to him, “are… well…”

Thomas sighs again. This is the part of the conversation he wasn’t looking forward to. Someday he’ll talk to James about Silver, tell him about their relationship on the plantation, and hopefully that would lead to a similar arrangement that the two of them had had with Miranda. The three of them, together, against the world and her rules. Thomas has no doubt that Silver will be interested--he is in love with James, after all, though he’s never actually said those words--but Thomas has no clue of James’s feelings toward Silver. Thomas needs time to suss that out.

“We’re going to be entering into a matelotage,” he says, watching Silver’s reaction very carefully. “We’ll be asking Captain Rackham to perform the ceremony when we arrive at the Maroon Camp.”

Silver’s still for a moment before slowly returning to skinning the fish, methodical and steady. There’s a tension in his shoulders, though, and Thomas has no doubt the expression on his face is a carefully composed mask of neutrality.

“Congratulations,” he says stiffly. Thomas reaches out and takes a hold of Silver’s hand, grasping it tight. Perhaps this is the wrong direction to go at this moment, but he has to try.

“I still care for you a great deal,” he says. “It’s just that--”

“Flint is your truest love,” Silver says, and Thomas frowns at the phrasing. Did James still own that copy of  _ Meditations _ ? “I understand,” he says, pulling his hand out of Thomas’s grasp. “I’m happy for you both.”

“Silver…”

“It’s John, Thomas,” Silver reminds him. “You should go.”

“John,” Thomas argues, but Silver shakes his head.

“Just go.”


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The matelotage ceremony goes without a hitch, and Madi returns to the camp.

It surprises Thomas more than it probably should, but the Maroon Camp is stunning. Suddenly he understands the capital letters. The place is huge and clearly well run. He’s introduced to the queen, a most formidable woman who seems more interested in the fact that Silver’s back than meeting a perfect stranger.

“Is Madi here?” Silver asks her. The woman shakes her head.

“She is still trying to repair the damage done in Nassau,” she says with a sharp look at the man they call Billy Bones. The large man looks like he can’t decide between defiant and ashamed. Personally, in the face of a woman like this, Thomas would’ve gone with ashamed.

“Any word?” James asks. The woman pries her gaze away from Billy and shakes her head.

“None as of yet.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Rackham says matter-of-factly.

The woman grimaces. “Only time will tell.”

The matelotage ceremony is beautiful. Thomas can’t picture a more idyllic setting--out in nature, surrounded by trees and birds and all sorts of wildlife. Rackham has seemed bemused since they asked him to perform the ceremony, and that doesn’t change throughout the affair. Thomas assumes it has something to do with the idea of the great Captain Flint getting married. James seems slightly annoyed, but Thomas really just finds it sort of funny.

On the other hand, Silver’s all but disappeared. Thomas caught a glimpse of him at the ceremony, but he seems to be actively avoiding Thomas. Thomas can only hope he’s not doing the same to James.

There’s a feast that night, and Thomas gets to learn more about the war. He’s told in great detail about the battle here at the camp and how the pirates became allies with the camp. He even gets the chance to talk to Rackham and Bonney (well, mostly Rackham--Bonney just sits there and offers short and usually vulgar comments) and learn all about the deaths of Charles Vane and Edward Teach and the barbarity of Woodes Rogers. Rackham goes on a few tangents here and there, stories of Vane and his adventures and exploits. By the end of the night Thomas feels as if Vane was an old friend and hates Woodes and Eleanor Rogers quite thoroughly. Rackham’s storytelling abilities are rather impressive.

Thomas’s favorite story is the one where Vane changed his mind at Charlestown and helped James raze the place to the ground. Knowing Miranda was killed there and that the world was finally rid of Peter Ashe during those events… Thomas never thought he’d cheer for the destruction of an entire town, but here they were. At the end of the story, though, Rackham makes an almost off-handed comment that catches Thomas’s attention.

“That was when Mr. Silver lost his leg.”

Suddenly Thomas realizes that in all the stories Silver had told at the plantation, he never once mentioned how he lost his leg. And Thomas had never thought to ask. He tries to picture Silver with both legs, nimble and quick, and it’s actually rather easy to imagine. He looks around, trying to find Silver in the throng of people around the, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Thomas excuses himself from Rackham and Bonney’s company and goes back to James’s side, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek. James startles, looking around quickly like he’s afraid someone saw. Thomas grips him by the elbow.

“Sweetheart, we just got married in front of all these people. A kiss isn’t going scandalize them.”

James shots him a harsh glare. “You don’t know that.”

Thomas frowns, once again disturbed by the hint of what had happened since he’d last seen James. He wraps his hand around James’s and squeezes tight.

“I’m exhausted. Shall we retire?”

The relief that blooms on James’s face tells him that was the right play.

They excuse themselves from the feast and return to the tent they’d been given for their stay here. Thomas flops on the bed with a sigh as James putters around. After a few moments, Thomas leans forward, hand under his chin.

“James?”

James whirls around. “Yeah?”

“Will you tell me what’s happened?”

James frowns. “What’s happened?” he echoes.

“Since we parted. I want to understand what you’ve been through. How you became Captain Flint. What led you to this war.”

James stares at him, looking like a lost child. “Are you sure you want to know?” he asks, voice hoarse. Thomas’s heart cries out at the way James’s voice cracks at the end of the question. He’d always been quiet and unsure, like he was constantly convinced he was doing something wrong, but this is something else entirely. It’s as if James is actually frightened of what Thomas might do or think if he knows the truth. Thomas sits up, resisting the urge to stand and go to him.

“We’re already married, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. And I already know the worst of it, don’t I? The murder of Alfred Hamilton?”

James is playing with the sleeve of his shirt, twisting it between his fingers like it can somehow solve the situation.

“I killed my closest friend.”

Thomas’s heart thuds in his throat. “Okay,” he says, making it clear in his tone that he wants to know more. James sighs, shoulders falling abruptly, and he raises a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose.

“Will you tell me everything that’s happened to you?”

Thomas nods quickly. “Of course.” Does he want to tell James about his treatment at Bethlem, how he tried to kill himself, the beatings at the plantation? No. He wants to protect James from those truths more than anything. But if he’s going to ask James to be honest with him, Thomas needs to return the favor. He pats the space on the bed next to him.

“Will you sit down? Please?”

James hesitates for a moment, fingers fidgeting with the ends of his sleeves, but then he nods and steps over to sit beside Thomas. Thomas takes one of his hands, kissing the knuckles gently, and scoots in close to wrap himself around James’s form.

“Tell me about this friend,” he says. “What was his name?”

“Gates,” James exhales. “Hal Gates.”

* * *

Several days later, Thomas wakes up to some sort of commotion outside. With a groan, he looks around for James to find him already out of bed and throwing on some clothes.

“What’s going on?” Thomas mumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

“A skiff arrived on the beach. Rumor is Madi’s returned.”

Thomas sits up. With everything he’s heard about this woman, and after his interactions with her mother, he’s rather looking forward to meeting her. Thomas quickly throws on some clothes and joins James to the crowd of people at the center of the camp. They push their way to the center of the crowd where the Maroon Queen and a woman who looks her duplicate twenty years younger stand. Thomas notices a man standing to the side, arms folded tightly across his chest, watching the crowd with a distrustful eye. The young woman sees James and a bright smile erupts on her face.

“Captain!” she greets, walking towards them. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

James smiles a little tightly. “Madi, meet Thomas. Thomas, Madi.”

Madi holds a hand out toward Thomas, which Thomas takes. “Pleasure to meet you, Thomas.”

“Oh, I assure you, the pleasure is all mine.”

Madi inclines her head graciously before turning to gesture at the sour-faced man.

“Captain, I’d like you to meet Julian.”

Julian walks forward, letting his arms fall to his sides. Thomas expect the hard expression to soften somewhat as he approaches, but it doesn’t in the least.

“Captain Flint,” Julian says, voice just as tight as his posture. James raises an eyebrow, and Madi’s smile becomes strained.

“Julian organized an army of slaves in response to the retaliation from the Underhill estate. I convinced him to ally his men with us instead of seeking justice.”

“She convinced me to hear you out,” Julian corrects tersely. Thomas looks at James. He’d explained what had happened with the slaves on Nassau. Thomas doesn’t really blame Julian for wanting “justice”, as Madi had put it, but it makes things complicated. Truly, Thomas is impressed Madi had convinced Julian to come in the first place. James is giving Julian a shark-like smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Well, hopefully we can work something out.”

“Our families were beaten and tortured,” Julian snaps. “How, exactly, do you propose ‘work something out’?”

James pauses, sharing a glance with Madi before looking around for inspiration. Thomas watches closely, fascinated to have a front row seat for the workings of Captain Flint. Finally James’s eyes land on something, but Thomas doesn’t get the chance to see what it is before James is talking again.

“What if you were able to find some justice?”

Julian looks unimpressed. “How?”

Thomas forces himself not to recoil at the look on James’s face. The stories James had told him were a lot different from watching the malice of Captain Flint in person.

“I’m sure Madi told you there is a particular party responsible for the suffering of your people.”

Julian squints at him. “Yes.”

“What if I gave you that party?”

Billy. James was talking about handing over Billy Bones.

“To take back to my people?”

James nods. “To do with him what you will.”

Julian considers this for a moment. “It would be a start.”

James smiles widely and turns to the pirate standing behind him--Dooley, Thomas thinks. “Gather the vanguard and bring Mr. Bones to Julian as quickly and quietly as possible.”

Dooley nods shortly and disappears into the crowd. Thomas watches James, his stomach tied in knots. Billy Bones had helped rescue him and Silver. He was the one responsible for recruiting other people from the plantation, like Victoria. Then again, he had tried to kill James and Madi, but James had made it sound like they were past that. From the way James casually shakes Julian’s hand and says, “Good to make your acquaintance,” though, it seems James is thoroughly unbothered by the deal he just made. Madi looks unbothered too. Thomas pushes down the sick feeling welling up inside him. This is war, he reminds himself. There is always sacrifice in war.

The queen approaches and guides Julian away to show him to his tent. James nods in his direction.

“He seems like a handful,” he says to Madi. Madi’s smile twists.

“It was not easy convincing him to come. I believe he told his men to attack if he does not return soon.”

“Well, we best get him on his way then. As soon as he has Billy.”

“As soon as who has Billy?”

All three of them turn to see Silver approaching through the dissipating crowd. Madi’s face lights up and she rushes to him, wrapping him up in a warm embrace. Silver hugs her back with his free arm, his focus fixed on James.

“As soon as who has Billy?” he repeats, letting go of Madi and limping closer to James.

“Julian,” James responds, looking mildly confused. “He’s an ally from the estates in the interior.”

Silver frowns. “We have one of those? I thought after Billy…” He trails off, eyes going wide. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“He needs to be dealt with,” James says easily. Silver looks at Madi.

“You’re on board with this?”

“I am,” she says, frowning. Silver turns his glare to Thomas.

“And you?”

Thomas raises his hands in defense. “I was not part of this decision.”

“But you’re supporting it,” Silver seethes. “Billy is my  _ friend _ .”

“He tried to kill Madi and myself,” James reminds him.

“And then he helped you find me!”

“For his own gain!” James argues. “Billy has become a problem, and this is a convenient way for us to take care of it while also gaining a valuable ally in return.”

Silver lets his glare settle on Madi who looks bewildered and a little hurt. He then glares at Thomas.

“I can’t believe you,” he says. “Both of you.” He stalks away with a muffled thud every time his crutch hits the ground. Madi looks between James and Thomas a little frantically before turning to run after him. Thomas looks to James, who’s look of confusion has only deepened.

“Are you really that surprised he feels this way?” Thomas asks. James is watching the space where both Silver and Madi disappeared.

“I did expect him to at least understand, but that’s not what I’m concerned about,” James answers.

“What is it then?” Thomas asks, glancing in the same direction James is staring. The crowd that had gathered for Madi’s return is almost completely gone by now, virtually leaving the two of them alone in the center of camp. James tears his eyes away to meet Thomas’s.

“I know Silver and Madi had become close before we returned to Nassau. I wasn’t sure, but I believed them to have become lovers even.”

Thomas winces. They had, he knows. But things had gotten complicated since then. He takes James by the arm, leading him back to their tent. “Come with me. We should talk.”

* * *

James looks a little shell-shocked, and he’s worrying the ends of his sleeves again. Thomas waits for a moment before speaking again.

“I thought you were dead,” he reassures James quietly. James shakes his head.

“That’s not… I didn’t know… he was interested in men.”

Thomas lets out a small huff of laughter. “Well, I can personally assure you he is.”

James’s responding smile is a bit wobbly. “Do you still… are you still…?”

“Do I still love him?” Thomas finishes for him. “Of course. Do you?”

James blinks up at Thomas, surprised. “Do I what?”

“Love him still?”

“When did I ever say I loved him?”

Thomas suppresses a sigh. “You didn’t, but I’m not blind.”

James’s face twists into something resembling disgust. “I don’t  _ love _ John Silver.”

Thomas raises an eyebrow. “You dropped everything in the middle of a war to rescue him.”

“So did everyone else!” James argues. “He’s been set up as the Pirate King--he’s essential to the war effort!”

“But that wasn’t  _ your _ reason for rescuing him.”

“What makes you think that?” James asks defensively.

“The way you look at him,” Thomas says. “The way you talk about him. The way he talked about you before you found us.”

James’s eyes flicker up at that. “He feels the same way?”

Thomas grins. “Yes.”


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silver and Flint argue about the war. They return to Nassau.

The day after a skiff with Julian and an unconscious Billy Bones leave the island, the two crews start getting ready to return to Nassau. Rackham and Bonney are eager to get back and exact revenge on Eleanor, and James is eager to get rid of the governor. With Julian now on their side their chances have significantly increased. The plan is to drop anchor out of sight of the beach and make it to Miranda’s old house, apparently now a base of operations. The idea of seeing where Miranda had been living all these years makes Thomas a little uneasy, but it wasn’t as if his feelings on the matter held any sway.

As the preparations for departure get under way, Thomas suddenly realizes how useless he really is. He feels like he keeps getting in the way of the real work. It’s driving him a little crazy so he finally goes to the captain’s cabin to bring up the issue with James. Silver is there, both of them leaning over charts and discussing the best routes. Silver notices Thomas first.

“Thomas,” he says, straightening. James looks over and smiles warmly.

“Hello,” he says. “We were just wrapping up.” He holds his hand out to bring Thomas in closer. Thomas returns the smile but takes a step back.

“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you, and maybe Sil--” Thomas catches the hard look in Silver’s eyes and corrects himself. “John can help.”

“What is it?” Silver asks, folding his arms across his chest. Thomas tries not to sigh. He misses when Silver was open and comfortable with him.

“I was hoping I could be assigned a job on the ship,” he says instead. “Just something small like help with the guns.”

“I’m not giving you anything that puts you in danger,” James says quickly.

“Something else then,” Thomas concedes, knowing there’s no way to win  _ that _ argument. “S--John taught me some cooking skills at the plantation. I’m sure I could--”

“What if he took care of the books?” Silver says. “Like Dufrense used to.”

“That’d really only work when we’re hunting,” James points out.

“Still--it’s safe, and I imagine Thomas would find it fulfilling. You’re good with money and mathematics?”

“Mathematics, sure,” Thomas says. “I haven’t had the opportunity to work much with money.”

Silver looks at James. “There you are.”

James sighs. “All right. In the meantime you can help in the galley. How does that sound?”

Thomas nods. “Sounds great.”

James turns to Silver. “Anything else?”

“Actually, yes,” Silver says, adjusting his grip on his crutch so he stands a little taller. “Why are we doing this?”

Thomas winces. He’s not sure he really wants to be here for this conversation. James frowns, confused.

“Doing what?”

“Fighting this war.”

James’s frown deepens, and he glances at Thomas. “You asked me where this war started, and I told you.”

Silver shakes his head. “That’s exactly what I don’t understand. Thomas is alive and well now.”

Thomas tries to blend into his surroundings somehow. He doesn’t want to interfere with this, and him being here is just awkward for everyone.

“That doesn’t change what England is and what it does,” James says, taking a step forward. Silver rolls his eyes.

“And what is that?”

“They paint the world full of shadows, and tell their children to stay close to their light, their reasons, their judgements. Because in the darkness, there be dragons.”

Thomas watches James closely, fascinated by the analogy. He knows well it’s because of what happened ten years ago that James feels this way, and honestly, Thomas agrees. No one was a monster for falling in love, no matter who they fell in love with.

“But it isn’t true,” James continues, “and with this war we can prove it. In the dark there is discovery, possibility--there is freedom in the dark once someone has the courage to illuminate it.”

Silver shakes his head. “I don’t care.”

James looks affronted, and Thomas watches as he starts fiddling with the end of one sleeve.

“A war isn’t worth it,” Silver says. “It isn’t worth the risk. We’ve lost so many people in the name of this war, and there’s no telling where it will stop.” He limps out from behind the desk. “I would think you’d have realized that now.”

“So when I retired and you became captain, you were just going to drop it?” James asks, voice shaking.

“Yes.”

“And what made you come to this realization that war is too great a risk?” James asks defiantly. “You were in full support of this war a month ago. You were the one who pushed me down this path, making an alliance with the Maroon Camp.”

“Because you were determined to let yourself die after the death of Mrs. Barlow!” Silver argues, and that brings Thomas up short. James had left that part of the story out the other night. James glances back at Thomas with a wince as if he can tell what he’s thinking.

“When I was at the plantation, I learned to accept the idea I would never see you or Madi or Billy or anyone I knew ever again. Thomas and I were making plans to escape and live out the rest of our lives, quietly in hiding. No war, no piracy, no sea. Just life. I want that.”

James looks frustrated, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “So why are you still here?”

Silver sighs like the answer should be obvious. “Because I’m not just going to abandon you. But that doesn’t mean I understand how you can go from wanting to settle down and retire to wanting to fight again in the space of a week.”

Thomas almost wants to intervene finally, but there’s a look on James’s face that seems familiar. With two short steps, James crowds into Silver’s space, places a hand on the back of his neck, and pulls him in for a kiss. Silver stiffens, but James persists, mouth moving on Silver’s with an intensity Thomas knows intimately. Thomas smiles privately to himself and ducks his head, trying to give them some form of privacy. He can hear when James finally breaks away, and he looks up again to see James searching Silver’s face for some indication of his reaction. Silver’s eyes seek out Thomas like he’s looking for permission. Thomas gives him a cheeky smile before slipping quietly out the door.

* * *

Thomas doesn’t know what he was expecting Nassau to be. Perhaps it’s the decade’s worth of anticipation that lets him down, or maybe it’s just that they’re not in Nassau proper. Either way, the beach is just a normal beach and the trek down long winding paths is just as normal. Thomas keeps catching Silver glancing at him and James with trepidation. Thomas can’t help rolling his eyes. James had told him everything that had happened the other day, ending with a red-faced Silver quickly throwing his clothes back on and hurrying out the cabin with stumbling apologies. Thomas can’t believe Silver seems to be so oblivious. He knows about the arrangement between Thomas, James, and Miranda--how can he not tell that’s what James and Thomas want? Maybe he’s uncomfortable because he didn’t feel the same way about Thomas. Which was fine, Thomas had accepted that fact. But there is no reason that should get in the way of Silver and James.

Thomas is so consumed by Silver and the current dilemma that it takes him a moment to recognize the sudden flurry of movement of the men around him.

“Redcoats,” one of the men beside Thomas hisses. Thomas looks up quickly, seeking James out. James is in front of him in a flash, hand on his elbow.

“Find cover and  _ stay down _ ,” James orders, and hm, Thomas should get James to give him orders more often. James is gone as quickly as he arrived, barking orders to the men and pulling out a pistol. Rackham is right next to him, barking orders as well, Bonney pulling out her swords, looking almost gleeful. Thomas turns to hide behind the brush everyone else is taking cover when a searing hot pain rips through his right side. Thomas falls to one knee hard, thoughts clouded by the fire under his ribs. There are hands on him, pulling him to safety, but the movement pulls at the wound, sending scorching bursts of pain through his body.

“Thomas! Thomas!” John appears in his line of sigh, worry etched in his features. Thomas feels a coarse hand take his, fingers tight. “Hey, stay with me, all right?”

Thomas grips John’s hand back, writhing on the ground, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the spot right below his ribs refuses to stop roaring at him. It’s like fire is crawling it’s from out from his side, down his leg, and up through his arm and neck. He’s never felt anything like this; it was nothing like anything he’d been subject to at the plantation or even Bethlem.

John is hollering for Howell, but the din around them is so loud. Gunshots and yelling ring through the air, combined with the clinking of swords and the occasional screams. Thomas loses himself in the sounds, praying to anyone who’s listening that James is all right. He tightens his grip on John’s hand, using it as a lifeline as he slowly slips out of consciousness.

* * *

Thomas wakes up warm and comfortable for the first time in over a decade. Comfortable, that is, except for the low burning in his right side. He tries to shift away from the sensation, but he finds his entire body feels heavy and he can barely move. Warily, he pries his eyes open and slowly becomes aware of the voices in the room.

“How do you not see it?! You have no control you gets hurt, who lives, who dies. Sure, maybe it’s the crew member you barely even knew existed, but maybe it’s your fucking husband!”

At the foot of his bed stand John and James, glaring daggers at each other, John’s chest heaving like he’s out of breath.

“This is why I don’t want us fight this war,” he continues. “Please tell me you understand.”

James looks high-strung and furious, but he nods anyway. “I understand.”

John lets his weight sag onto the crutch. “Good. Now can we drop this?”

James looks pained. “We’ve come too far.”

“Thomas almost died!” John bursts.

“You don’t think I don’t know that?” James yells back.

“Look, I saw what you were like after the death of Mrs. Barlow, and I have some inkling of what you were like after you were told Thomas died,” John growls. “I really don’t want to see what you’ll be like if Thomas really dies. Especially after just getting him back.”

“John,” Thomas manages to croak. Both James and John startle, looking at him with wide, worried eyes. Thomas tries to smile reassuringly. “I’m fine.”

John’s expression grows hard. “You’re high,” he corrects. Thomas sighs heavily and tries to shift to see John better.

“I’m fine,” he insists. “James, is there a plan moving forward?”

James moves to his side, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. “We’re going into town. Julian’s people will meet up with us there, and Madi is working on getting people in town on our side. The plan is to capture the governor and kill the officer named Berringer who’s been in charge of a long line of hangings since we left.”

Thomas nods. “Good. Be safe. When do you leave?”

“First thing tomorrow.”

“I’ll be staying here with you,” John says, coming up to his other side. Thomas watches John’s hand twitch like he’s holding himself back from touching Thomas. It’s kind of sweet. James, on the other hand, looks up at John with shock.

“You can’t stay here.”

John shoots him a glare. “I’m staying,” he says. “Someone needs to stay here to protect him.”

“Someone else can do that,” James points out. “Dooley and Joji or--”

“You need them with you.”

“I need  _ you _ with me!” James argues. “We need to bring Long John Silver back from the dead!”

“Too bad,” John says, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m staying.”

“John…” Thomas starts weakly, but John cuts him off with a scowl.

“Stay out of this.”

Thomas blinks at the harshness of his tone. Right then.

“We need the Pirate King in order for this to be successful.”

“Well, then you’re out of luck,” John says with a shrug. “I never wanted this. Billy created this character without my consent. You’ve brought us this far, you can finish it.”

“Why are you  _ doing _ this?” James asks, voice almost shrill.

“Because there are more important things. Like your husband’s life.” John frowns at him. “You said you understood.”

James rubs at his eyes, looking suddenly ten years older in this moment. “Fine,” he says quietly. “If there’s nothing I can do to convince you otherwise--”

“There isn’t.”

James’s glare is brief. “Fine. Fine. Do what you want.” He stands. “I’ll let the others know you won’t be coming.” He spares Thomas one last look. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Thomas smiles at him. “Me too.”

James nods, then give John one last scowl before stalking out the room. Thomas turns his attention back to John with a frown. “There’s no need to antagonize him.”

“I’m not antagonizing him, I’m just done playing at war.”

“He’s not playing,” Thomas argues. “You know that.”

“You’re back,” John says. “What reason does he have to keep fighting?”

“Maybe this war started with me,” Thomas concedes. “But it’s much more than that now. And you  _ know _ that.”

John shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. Thomas sighs. “He needs you.”

“He needs me to watch after you,” John says. “You don’t know what he’d be like if he lost you again.”

It’s true. Thomas doesn’t know. James left that out, and it seems like John is intimately aware of how bad it was after Miranda’s death. Speaking of which…

“Is this Miranda’s home?” he asks. John nods.

“Her bedroom too, apparently.”

Which meant this was Miranda’s bed. Presumably it also meant James and Miranda had shared this bed. Something about that thought made Thomas feel warm inside. A hand rests softly on his shoulder.

“Get some rest,” John says gently. Thomas nods and snuggled into his sheets as if he can smell Miranda on them. He sleeps soundly with that thought.


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and John bond while James is away.

Thomas wakes briefly to a kiss on his forehead, and James murmuring, “I’ll be back in a couple days.” Dimly, Thomas wonders if James got any sleep during the night, but he slips back into unconsciousness before he gets much time to contemplate the question.

The next time he wakes up it’s to a gentle knock on the door. He opens his eyes blearily to see John in the doorway, holding a tray with something steaming. John gives him a small smile.

“I made soup,” he says. The aroma slowly fills the room and Thomas lets out a satisfied hum.

“Smells wonderful,” he says. John’s smile widens and he walks inside, setting the tray down on the smell table beside the bed.

“How’re you feeling?”

Thomas assesses the pain in his side, shifting to try to sit up a little. John hurries to help move the pillows to a more comfortable position, and Thomas lets out a long breath of relief as he settles back down, the strain on his side relaxing.

“That good, huh?” John says with a bit of a smirk. Thomas gives him a wry smile.

“How long ago did they leave?”

“A couple hours,” John replies. “They may be a few days, depending on how things go.”

“James said.”

John nods, looking away. Thomas watches him closely for a moment before speaking. “May I ask you a question?”

John looks back up. “Sure,” he says, a little unease in his voice.

“James told me how you left the other day,” Thomas says. “You do realize I’m more than fine with you two sleeping together, right?”

John looks mortified, his eyes going round. “Jesus,” he mutters.

“You know about the arrangement we had with Miranda. I have no problems with my spouse seeking pleasure with other people.”

“It’s not just pleasure I’m seeking,” John points out, his cheeks starting to darken.

“I know,” Thomas assures him easily. John shakes his head.

“I don’t want to get between the two of you,” he says. “You just reunited.”

“But you loved him before that, and he loved you,” Thomas argues. “It’s not fair for me to get in the way of that.”

“It’s not just him!” John bursts, cheeks now a dark, deep shade of red. Thomas blinks at him, confused.

“What?”

John runs a hand down his face. “It wasn’t just him I--I loved before you reunited.”  
Thomas frowns. “Madi?”

John stares at him. “Jesus, are you really that blind? It’s you, Thomas. I’m not just here protecting you for him. Seeing you get shot…” He trails off and grabs the bowl of soup. “You should eat.”

Thomas ignores the soup, staring at John, not quite sure he believes his ears. “I thought I was just convenient.”

“God, no. You were the only one at that plantation who didn’t act like I was a burden because of my leg,” John says. “And knowing what I knew of you from the Captain, it was entirely too easy to… develop feelings.”

Something was tightening in Thomas’s chest. After so many things going so wrong for so many years, was it really possible for so much to go right? But something still wasn’t quite right--John still seemed to think this couldn’t work.

“You do realize I love you too, right?”

John blinked up at him. Thomas took the look on his face as a no. He reaches out, taking the soup from John’s hands and setting it back on the tray. He takes John’s hands in his, ignoring the way his abdomen sends shooting pains up and down his whole side.

“If you’re open to it, and I know James is, we could all three be together. We could be happy together.”

“You’re sure the Captain is open to this?”

Thomas grins. “I’m positive.”

* * *

It’s wonderful to have the physical comfort of John in his life again. True, the physical comforts were limited--John said it was because he didn’t want to rip Thomas’s stitches, but Thomas suspects it has more to do with wanting explicit permission from James first. Whatever the reason, Thomas revels in every kiss, every touch, and spends the moments in between waiting for more.

It’s the third day of James’s absence that things suddenly go very wrong. Thomas is still confined to the bed except to relieve himself and sometimes he still needs John’s help getting there and back. John’s out making the mid-day meal when Thomas hears a crash and a volley of gunshots from outside. He starts, the movement pulling painfully at his stitches, and tries to roll off the bed. He needs to find John.

There’s another round of scattered gunshots just as Thomas’s feet hit the ground. They’re bare and he’s just wearing his underclothes, but they need to get out of there, they need to leave. Thomas stumbles upright, holding onto the wall, listening to the crashing and clinking outside the room. Just as Thomas reaches the door it bursts open, admitting a wild-eyed John, holding a sword loosely in one hand and gripping his crutch tight in the other. Blood is matted in his hair and trickling down the left side of his face. Thomas assesses him, looking for signs of other wounds.

“Redcoats,” he explains. “We need to go.”

“Are you okay?” Thomas asks, concerned. John shakes his head dismissively.

“I took care of most of them, but a couple got away, and they’ll be back with reinforcements. We gotta go  _ now _ . Let’s find you some clothes.” John steers him back to the bed and starts digging through drawers. He pulls out a shirt and some trousers and tosses them at Thomas. 

“Hopefully they fit.”

Well, presumably the clothes were James’s so they’d fit just fine. James liked to dress in clothes slightly too big for him which was then the perfect size for Thomas. Thomas starts to painstakingly pull the shirt over his head, but John is there to help before he can get too far.

“I don’t know where any shoes would be,” John says. “You fine without them?”

Thomas nods grimly and holds an arm out for John to take. John turns to take Thomas’s arm and wrap it over his shoulders. Thomas takes the support gratefully, and the two of them limp out to the living area. Suddenly with the time pressure the task seems to take forever, the two jostling into each other.

There’s a dead redcoat in the open doorway, and the window beside it is shattered. The table is turned over, broken dishes all over the floor. In the fireplace crackles a quiet little fire, most likely set by John in order to prepare food. Thomas mourns the loss of the meal, but his stomach is so twisted with anxiety and adrenaline he’s not sure he could eat right now. John readjusts Thomas’s arm and then his crutch, and they head for the open door. Thomas hears a small crack like the sound of a twig snapping and suddenly there’s a redcoat in the doorway, his side dark with blood, snarling ferociously.

“Shit,” John hisses, hopping backwards quickly, Thomas stumbling after him. The man in front of them steps over his brother without a care, brandishing his sword menacingly. John wrenches Thomas’s arm from around his shoulders, readjusting his grip on his own sword before jumping forward to attack. Thomas falls heavily against the wall, head spinning.

Before Thomas can really get a handle on what’s happening, the redcoat has pushed John back into the kitchen. Thomas watches in helpless horror as the man knocks John’s sword out of his hand and kicks the crutch back into the fireplace. Leaning on the wall for support, John snatches his crutch back from the fireplace, but it’s already too late. The crutch is now like a torch, the end blazing with an angry fire. John uses it to his advantage, swinging the end of the crutch at the man. The man bellows, his coat immediately set on fire, and he scrambles backwards, trying to pat out the fire. The fire spreads without mercy, moving to the drawers the man falls against and up the wall before Thomas can take it all in. John uses the table and walls that aren’t yet up in flames to return to Thomas’s side.

“Let’s go!” he yells over the roar of the fast-growing fire. Thomas shakes his head.

“What about your crutch?”

“You’ll have to help me!” John says, looking apologetic through the rushed expression on his face. Thomas swallows heavily but takes John by the arm, letting him settle in his uninjured side. The house around them is already swallowed up in raging flames, and they both are going to make it out of there, they have to.

Without warning, a beam from the ceiling comes crashing down on top of them, and Thomas falls heavily with a yell. Before he even hits the ground he can feel the stitches in his side split open, the wound feeling just as fresh as it had a few days previously. His vision swims, and he pushes himself up as much as possible, looking for John.

“John!”

“I’m here,” John’s voice answers tightly, and there, Thomas can see him through the flames, a wince written all over his face.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m trapped,” John replies. “The beam fell on my bad leg.”

“Shit,” Thomas says, crawling around closer to John and the beam, ignoring the shooting pain in his side. He grabs the bottom of the beam where there are the least amount of flames and tries lifting it, but it doesn’t even budge. He pulls back fast as the movement tugs at his newly reopened wound. John, meanwhile, is shaking his head.

“It’s no use, just get out of here!” he yells, tugging pointlessly on his trapped leg.

“I’m not leaving you!” Thomas yells back, helpless. John gives him a pained look.

“Thomas, please! Go!”

James is gonna kill him, Hell, Thomas will kill himself if he leaves John to die like this. Then again, Thomas will die too if he stays. Surely there had to be somebody nearby who could help, right? A kindly neighbor, perhaps?

“I’ll go get help,” he says, wishing he could reach past the flames to touch John one last time. No. Not one last time. He’s going to find help, John’ll be all right. But John doesn’t look convinced.

“Take care of him,” he says, a note of desperation in his voice. Thomas decides to ignore the request as it’s not relevant. It won’t matter, John’ll be just fine. Thomas tries to push himself to his feet, but his side screams out at him, and he tumbles back to the floor.

“Thomas!” John yells, but Thomas ignores him, using a wall to climb up to his feet. He’s fine. He’ll be fine. Everything will be all right.

Slowly he makes his way to the door, leaning heavily on the wall for support. The fresh air at the door hits him like a wave and he breathes deep, coughing out the smoke. As soon as he has nothing to prop himself up on he falls hard to his knees, crying out as the movement stretches his side. Help. He needs to get help. Blindly, he crawls forward, arms giving out beneath him. His side is searing, pain traveling all up his arm and down his leg. But John needs help, they need help, help…

* * *

“Thomas!”

Someone is shaking him almost roughly.

“Thomas!”

The voice is panicked but familiar. Slowly he pries his eyes open. James.

“He’s inside,” Thomas rasps, trying to convey the urgency of the situation. How long had he been out?

“What?” James says, his entire body taut with concern.

“John,” Thomas tries again. “He’s inside. Trapped. Hurry.”

James looks up at the burning building, and Thomas can feel the indecision emanating off him. Weakly, he pushes at James’s shoulder.

“Go,” he says. “Hurry.”

“Dooley!” James barks. “Come see what you can do to help Thomas! I’m going inside.”

“Captain!”

“Do it!” James orders, and Thomas feels himself before lowered back to the ground. He cranes his neck to get a look at the house. It’s a blackened, raging inferno, and, Christ, he just sent James into that thing. There was no way John was alive. This was stupid. A man kneels at his side, Dooley maybe? and gently rolls Thomas over to prod softly at the wound.

“How’re you feeling?”

Thomas ignores the question in favor of watching the doorway of the house with baited breath. They had to be okay. Both of them. Things were just starting to go right, it couldn’t all come crashing down now. They had to be all right.

It seems to take a year before a figure shows up in the smoke. Thomas lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding when he sees John in James’s arms, but his breath falters again when he realizes John is limp and unconscious. Thomas tries sitting up, but Dooley puts a strong hand on his shoulder to keep him back. James hurries over, laying John down next to him and feeling for his pulse. With a sigh, James sits back.

“He’s alive.”

Thomas relaxes, letting his eyelids droop. James is fine. John is alive. They’re both fine. It’s all right.


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get news from Max about the Rogers. James, Thomas, and John bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I hate writing sex scenes. This is my excuse for why the hell this took so long.

“Well, we have some good news, and we have some bad news,” Jack announces on their arrival at the new base--apparently the old Underhill estate. James finishes his work on Thomas’s bandages before turning.

“Let’s hear it.”

“Good news… well. Would you like to tell them?” Jack says, turning to someone still outside the door.

In walks a stunningly beautiful woman with dark curls carefully composed on her head. She takes a look around the room of spent and worn pirates, her eyes finally landing on where John lay, slowly pushing himself up off the mattress to glare at her.

“What is she doing here?” he asks, voice rough and raspy still from the smoke. Thomas takes another look at the woman, who looks somewhat abashed. Looking at John’s exhausted face, it’s clear there’s history there. It takes Thomas a moment to remember the name: Max. This must be Max.

“I did what I thought was best for everyone at the time,” Max says, twisting her hands in front of her. “It is clear to me now that I was wrong. But I bring news.”

“Well?” says Dooley. “What is it?”

Max glances around at each figurehead in the group before speaking. “I have learned that the Governor is in extreme debt and the city is obviously not bringing in the money he was anticipating. His debtors have been put under pressure to collect sooner rather than later, and he is running out of options fast.”

“So all we need to do is wait him out,” James says musingly. “If his debtors are gonna come collecting sooner rather than later, sooner rather than later he’ll be forced to give up Nassau as a lost cause.”

Max nods. “That is the good news. The bad news is Eleanor has already come up with a possible solution and left to pursue this option.”

“What option is that?” John asks, still looking furious at her.

“Her grandparents,” Max says. “They are a very wealthy couple in Philadelphia, and she has gone to see if they will pay off her husband’s debts.”

“And if they do, we’ll be right back where we started, and the governor will have money to spare,” Jack adds.

“How did you learn of all this?” John asks. Max looks at him briefly, her posture screaming that she just wants to kick some sense into John so he’ll stop being petulant. Honestly, Thomas can’t blame her.

“Eleanor told me. She still thought I was her confidant.”

“When did she leave?” James says.

“Six weeks ago,” Max says. “If all went well, she should be on her way back now.”

“So what does this mean for us?” Dooley asks James. James takes a deep breath.

“It means that if Eleanor was successful we need to strike fast and hard and take Nassau now and with finality. We need to make it impossible for her grandparents to take control when they arrive. If she was unsuccessful, we can simply wait. Soon enough the governor will be forced to leave Nassau.”

James looks over to John, and Thomas watches an entire conversation pass between them within seconds. He doesn’t pick up on all the subtleties, but he knows James is asking where John stands on this. John glances over to Thomas, seeming a little off-guard to find Thomas is watching him, and that seems to end the conversation. Thomas still has a hole healing in his side. And even if he didn’t, John still has smoke in his lungs. Even if John wanted to fight, he can’t.

“We could go back to our ships and wait for her to return,” Jack suggests. “With either result, we’ll want to know before the governor does. A few of us could cut her off, while the rest of us stay here and prepare to attack if necessary.”

“I assume you’d like to be part of the party going to intercept Eleanor?” James asks, with an eyebrow raised.

“That is a resounding ‘yes’.”

“Max, do you think you could talk to her and get her to see reason?”

“Eleanor will not be swayed easily, but I will do my best.”

James nods curtly. “All right then. Jack, take Max and twenty men back to your ship. Who’ll be the rider to give us the message when Eleanor returns?”

Anne Bonney steps forward, hands on the hilts of her swords. “I will.”

“Good. We’ll be waiting.”

* * *

James sends the remaining men out to scout for danger. He doesn’t want another surprise attack, he says. John falls back asleep--blessedly--and Thomas decides to make a little dinner. James comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and resting his head against Thomas’s shoulder. Thomas grins and turns to press a kiss to Jame’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” James says quietly. Thomas frowns.

“For what?”

“For leaving you there without enough protection. We were able to defeat Berringer, and I believe the attack on Miranda’s was in retaliation. Eleanor must’ve told them about the house.”

“We all thought John and I would be able to handle it if anything happened. No one expected them to come in such a force.”

“I should’ve anticipated it.”

Thomas drops what he’s doing and turns around in James’s arms, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Please don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault. Besides, I’m fine.”

James’s eyes drop to the floor. “Silver’s not,” he says quietly. Thomas pushes his face up by the chin so he can place a chaste kiss on James’s lips.

“He’s alive. That’s what matters.”

James stubbornly doesn’t respond, and Thomas sighs and kisses him again, more firmly. “He’ll be fine, I promise.”

James lets go of Thomas and walks closer to John’s sleeping figure. Thomas turns back to making dinner, chopping carrots for a soup.

“Speaking of John,” he says casually. “We were able to talk some while you were away--before the attack.”

“About?” James asks.

“About you. And us. All three of us.”

Thomas can practically feel James freeze and look up at him with shock. “And?” he asks quietly.

“He wants to be a part of this. I want him to be a part of this. All three of us, together.”

“Like we were with Miranda?”

“More.” Thomas turns with a smile as he hears a sharp intake of breath from James.

“You’re sure about this?” James asks, his fingers rubbing at the edges of his sleeves.

“Yes. And I think now, while we’re waiting to hear back from Rackham and Bonney, would be a perfect time to do something about it.”

James shakes his head furiously. “No. We should wait until after all this is over. When things are calm again, and both you and John have recovered.”

“James, for all we know, it could be months more before this is all over,” Thomas argues. “And I know John didn’t fully believe me when I told him you’d be interested. Are you gonna make him agonize over it through the end of this war?”

James glances at John again, eyes fixed on him for a moment as his face shifts from anxious to soft and fond. Thomas leaves his knife on the counter and walks up to James, as close as they were a few minutes ago.

“You should get some rest,” he says softly in James’s ear. “I’ll wake you both up when I’m finished with dinner.”

James hesitates, like he’s on the verge of arguing again, but Thomas gives him a gentle push towards the bed, and James goes over easily. He slips under the covers beside John, wrapping an arm around John’s middle and pulling him in close. John hums softly in his sleep but doesn’t wake. Thomas watches the picture in front of him, smiling to himself, before turning back to the kitchen and getting back to work on the soup.

* * *

The soup’s on the fire and Thomas has sat down beside it, massaging his side gently, when there’s a confused noise from the bed. Thomas looks over to see John’s eyes slowly blinking open to frown at the arm around his torso, and he flinches slightly enough that James’s grip on him tightens. John finds Thomas’s gaze, and Thomas just smiles, so John tries turning toward James to wake him up.

“Captain,” he says softly. James grumbles and nuzzles closer. John grows more tense. “Captain,” he says, trying to pry James’s arm off him. “Please wake up.”

“Waisit?” James mumbles. Suddenly his eyes fly open, like he’s just realized who’s in his arms. James’s and John’s eyes meet, and Thomas waits for the tension to melt.

“Hullo, Captain,” John says awkwardly. James glances at Thomas briefly before sliding into a sleepy smile.

“I think you can call me James now, Silver.”

“Well then you should call me John.” James’s grip loosens enough to allow John to turn around completely to face James.

“I hear you and Thomas talked about me while I was gone,” James says mildly. Thomas can’t see John’s face anymore, but he has an idea what it would be right about now: cautious anxiety.

“We did.”

“May I kiss you?”

“You--yes.”

James is a man of action. He climbs on top John and practically devours him right there. John melts into the mattress, hands coming up to clutch at James’s shirt. After a few passionate moments, James’s hand slides between them, and Thomas watches with excitement as James undoes the lacing of John’s pants. Every once and a while, on the downstroke, Thomas can catch a glimpse of John’s cock, hard and leaking all over James’s shirt. Suddenly James looks up from where he’d been sucking at John’s collarbone to fix Thomas with a hard stare.

“Come over here,” he orders, voice rough. John, who looks a little dazed, follows James’s gaze and he and Thomas make eye contact. Thomas smiles.

“Thomas,” James says, in the same commanding tone. Thomas rises from the chair and walks over to the bed. James gestures at John. “Enjoy each other, dammit.”

Without waiting for his orders to be followed, James scoots down the mattress and takes John in his mouth with one large swallow. John bucks, eyes sliding closed, and Thomas jumps on the opportunity. He starts at the spot on John’s collarbone that James had been working on, using his teeth to abuse the skin so it’ll turn nice and dark. John groans, hand curling in Thomas’s hair.

Once he’s satisfied John’s collarbone will stay a nice shade of purple for a few days, Thomas moves up to capture John’s ever-increasing moans with his mouth. Thomas’s lips on his seems to somehow pull John back from over the edge, and his hand leaves Thomas’s hair to grapple at the laces of Thomas’s pants. There’s a hum from James and he moves up the mattress to help get rid of Thomas’s pants. Once Thomas is pleasantly half-naked, James returns to his task while John grips Thomas’s cock just this side of too tight and starts stroking. Thomas loses time at that point. He’s pretty sure there’s a moment where James licks John’s hand to make the slide of his palm on Thomas’s cock easier, but he can’t be quite sure.

John’s grip suddenly gets tight again, and Thomas stops panting in his ear to look down and see James swallowing every last drop. He was always so good at that part. James raises a hand to rest on John’s hip, and Thomas notes the sticky mess between his fingers and the blissed out look on James’s face. Knowing both his lovers have been so soundly satisfied is what does it for Thomas. He tenses in John’s grip, cum landing prettily on John’s sweat-soaked shirt.


End file.
